Another Reality
by Brooklynnx
Summary: During an encounter with Madam Web, SpiderMan is transported into another reality. He finds himself in our world, where he's fictional! Peter befriends a young girl named Jordan who tries to help him get back home...by contacting Marvel themselves.
1. Poof

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured Marvel characters. They were created by a guy who got the rights before I did. Grr._

Spider-Man.

The name rings through the concrete canyon that is New York City, brining excitement and even fear to its citizens. Everyone knew Spider-Man. If you didn't you were considered insane. They knew all about his allies, his enemies and all about him. But the city's famous wall-crawler had not been seen for several days. This worried them, for there had been many reports of robberies and petty thefts that Spider-Man would have stopped in a heartbeat. Well, many heartbeats passed, and there was still no sign of him.

Where was Spider-Man?  
Spider-Man was dealing with his own problems.

* * *

_Several Days Ago..._

Spider-Man.

Peter Parker had looked in the mirror this morning, laughed at his face, and simply came to a realization. He was Spider-Man. How many people could say that? Only one--give or take a few imposters and clones, of course.

But there was only one true Spider-Man, and he was one-hundred-percent original. Not one like him, that was for sure. And, known for his wisecracks, many were thankful for that knowledge. Spider-Man rarely cared if people didn't appreciate his humor--but there were some he knew when to be serious around. Like Colonel Morgan, of SAFE, for instance. That last situation had not ended well.

Spider-Man enjoyed his wisecracks, it made him forget just how dangerous his job was and just how stupid he was for doing it. But as he swung high above the city on his webline, he knew that today was one of those days that he just loved what he did.

He completed his rounds about Union Square swiftly, finding no illegal actions, and headed to Midtown. He heard the people scream his name as he went by, and he grinned underneath his mask. Then he saw someone duck for cover. He still didn't care--nothing could ruin today. He just felt good about himself, and didn't feel any stress as he normally did.

Spider-Man landed in an alleyway for a quick breather and sat on top of a large crate. He took deep breaths, preparing himself for the high-speed web swing ahead of him. Aunt May was expecting him for dinner.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cloud of smoke, which scent stung his nose and made his eyes tear. At first he thought it was Mysterio and his dumb smoke effects again, but the aura around him told him no. He sighed. Madam Web. Wonderful.

"Hello, Spider-Man."

Spider-Man stood, facing the fog as he saw Madam Web sitting in her chair, a large black spider's web as her backdrop and a chair reserved just for him was before her small little table. Spider-Man looked at her, cocked his head, and decided to stay put. Madam Web, however, decided that this was not suitable, and lifted her hand. As she waved, a force pulled Spider-Man forward and directed him to his seat.

"Spider-Man." she greeted.

"Madam Web. What can I do for you? You haven't ruined my life recently."

"Oh, such talk. Spider-Man, lately you haven't been very busy, have you?"

Spider-Man pondered on this. She was right--the last person he'd fought had been the Chameleon, and that was three weeks ago.

"Yeah. I guess. But, come on, there doesn't need to be an end of the world _every _Tuesday. It's normal."

Madam Web fiddled with her infamous playing cards, which Spider-Man had grown to really despise. But she had helped him out on many occasions--though she always made things worse in the beginning of things.

"You're living a lie, Spider-Man. This world is not a safe place."

"I know, lady. Have you_ seen _what I do?" He sighed, tapping the arm of the chair harshly with his fingers, trying to show that he was not in the mood for such a visit.

"Spider-Man, you must realize the extent of what you do. Do you even know?"

Spider-Man held his head. "Jeez, lady! You're already giving me a headache. You should come with asprin, you know that?" Spider-Man moaned. He was going to be late for dinner, he just knew it.

"Spider-Man," Madam Web breathed. "What you do changes everything. You must realize how serious this is."

"I do!" Spider-Man moaned. He hated when she talked in riddles like this. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Listen, Madam Web--I just really don't have time for this."

Madam Web raised her hand, and Spider-Man was pushed back down into his chair. "You're living in your own world, Spider-Man. It's time to enter another reality."

"What are you talking about? What other reality?" Spider-Man asked. He had not known Madam Web long, and he rarely wanted her help--especially when she went around the main point with her fancy words. As he thought this, Spider-Man got so tired of all the stuff she was saying. Spider-Man closed his eyes suddenly and forced himself to sit straight in his chair, but he kept slumping. Why was he so tired? He yawned and tried to keep his head up. What was...Madam Web!

"Hey...what are you...doing?" He asked, as the darkness lingering at the edges of his vision closed in and he collapsed on the ground. He remained silent for several hours, hidden in the back of an alleyway.


	2. As He Wakes

Peter Parker woke up in the alley, his head throbbing and so dizzy he felt like he would topple over when he stood. He checked underneath his clothes to see that his Spider-Man costume was safely hidden. And his mask was in his back pocket. Good.

Peter knew it was about time to be getting home to Aunt May, so he quickly changed and headed to Queens, his clothes inside of a backpack made up of his own webbing. He wondered what delicious meal she had prepared for him tonight--he really hoped it was meatloaf.

Spider-Man took the easy route--underneath the bridge, a few feet up from the water, over the high school he attended, and into his quiet neighborhood. He landed on the school roof with a thump. His spider-sense was not buzzing, yet something felt very wrong. The school looked like it should, yet there were a few things out-of-place that he couldn't point out. He shrugged it off and landed on his roof and crawled to the attic window.

But the attic window was locked.

This gave Spider-Man a very bad sign. It was never locked--_never! _What was going on? Why did everything seem so off today? Spider-Man shrugged, crawled on the side of the house and peered into his bedroom window.

It was not his bedroom.

Some teenage girl was lying on her bed, painting her nails and talking on the phone. Spider-Man didn't understand. This was his house! What was going on...?

He then jumped a few houses and checked Mary Jane Watson's house, who was Peter's girlfriend and who knew his big secret. He looked into her bedroom window as well, which also had a different owner. What the hell was going on?

Spider-Man didn't understand. Everything was normal...this was his house, this was his neighborhood, this was his town, this was his city. He decided that swinging around as Spider-Man may not have been the best idea, and he changed his clothes. He went back to what should have been his home and knocked on the door. The teenage girl who had been on the bed came down the stairs and answered. She opened the door and played with her long, brown hair.

"Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yeah. Hi. Uh, this might sound crazy but...I used to live here." Peter said.

The girl smiled. "Oh, yeah? Well...uh...where did you move?"

"I have no idea." Peter mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Hey, do you mind if I come in and take a look around?"

The girl thought. "I'm really not supposed to let anyone in the house when my parents are out...but...sure. You don't seem like a guy who would rape me and leave me for dead."

"That was a compliment, right?"

"Right. Come on, but don't take too long."

Peter smiled and walked inside the house. His house.

Everything was how it should have been--the kitchen was exactly right, the stairs...it was his house, except someone else had moved in and added all their things.

"This is too weird..." Peter mumbled.

The girl titled her head and smiled. After a few moments passed the girl started to feel uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry, but I think you should go. If you'd like, I work at a Starbucks a few blocks from here, down the street from the high school. I get there at nine."

Peter nodded. "Okay. Thanks for letting me look around..."he said, and he headed out the door.

"Thanks for not raping me and leaving me for dead."

"Oh, you're welcome!"

"You're welcome too!" she laughed. Peter nodded and headed down the street. Peter would go to Starbucks tomorrow, because right now that house and that girl was the only information he had. Peter, who had slept outside on stake-outs and such as Spider-Man, had never felt so alone as he stretched himself out on a bench down the block from his house. Hopefully no one would be taking the bus...otherwise, they were out of a seat.


	3. A Proper Introduction

Peter Parker woke up with a sore back and a headache as he sat straight on the bench. He yawned, stretched and tried to remember what the heck he was doing on a bench. He looked down the block and saw his house. Oh yeah. Now he remembered.

Peter stood and walked down the block, trying to find the Starbucks that girl said she worked at. He had no idea what was going on, but she seemed nice and maybe she could clear this whole thing up. Peter walked down the sidewalks and found not one familiar face. His spider-sense wasn't warning him of any danger...but what, then, was wrong here?

Peter passed his high school, which had more graffiti on its exterior than he recalled, and headed down the street to Starbucks. The flagpole wasn't even in its normal spot--now how does one explain that? Peter shook his head, prayed that he was not going insane, and found Starbucks. Funny...he never knew this was here...

He sat at a table, waiting for the girl to start her day behind the counter. He picked up a newspaper and started reading, sitting at a small table in the back. That was weird...there was nothing about him, or about the Fantastic Four, who have been in space for the past few days. The papers were all over that. And why didn't this place sell the _Daily Bugle? _When he was done with this he reminded himself to check in with J. Jonah Jameson, his hot-headed boss, and get the scoop on somethings that needed their picture taken.

Yeah...there was absolutely no articles on superhuman activity. What kind of newspaper was this?

He flung it to the side when he saw the girl thrown on her green apron. Peter stood and brushed himself off. He walked over to the counter.

"Hey, Peter. I forgot I told you that I worked here!" she smiled. She stuck out her hand. "Jordan Luck."

He smiled and shook hers. "Peter Parker."

Jordan snorted and laughed. "You're parents really thought that one out, huh?"

Peter ruffled his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Peter Parker. You're name."

Peter didn't answer.

Jordan threw back her head. "You must be nuts, living in New York City and not knowing who Spider-Man is."

Peter's heart skipped, but he remained a calm exterior. He smiled. "What makes you say that?"

"Come on! The comic books? The movies? The ride at Universal, for God's sake!" Jordan laughed. She smiled and moved down the counter to take another young man's offer. Peter followed.

"What do you mean? Comic books, movies, theme park rides--what are you talking about?"

She laughed again. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe you've never heard of Spider-Man. 'Course, maybe I'm just weird--I read the comics. My brother got me hooked when I was thirteen. I haven't picked up the habit in a while though."

Peter felt a lump in his throat. "C-comics? You know that Peter Parker is Spider-Man because of_ comics?"_

"And the movies. Come on--Spider-Man 3 just came out this summer!"

Peter stared at her with an ignorant glance. What was she talking about? Peter had no idea, and now his head hurt even more. Peter took a deep breath. "When do you get off?"

"What?"

"Can you take me to the comics?"

Jordan gave him a funny look. "Uh, okay, I guess. We can take a cab to Midtown Comics in the city if you want. It's the best one around here."

"Sounds great." Peter said.

And he watched her serve costumers coffee from a back table. He eyed her, and he got an uneasy feeling. She knew Peter Parker was Spider-Man? There were comics? Movies?--since when? This all made Peter sick to his stomach. She knew that Peter Parker was Spider-Man...yet she said it so casually. And she acted like there were two of him...as if his name was based off of the one she was referring to...

Peter looked up at her when business was slow and said, "Is it your lunch break yet?"

Jordan smiled, waved and said: "Ten more minutes."

Peter tapped on the table furiously. It was not an easy task to wait around at a time like this. But, Jordan hung up her apron and they walked out the door together. As they spotted a taxi, Peter realized that he had no money.

"Uh...any other comic book stores you know about? Local?"

"We can try Seven-Eleven." She shrugged.

Peter nodded, and they walked down the sidewalk. At first the silence was a bit awkward, but then it grew into a normal silence, as they admired their surroundings and each other's company. Peter noticed how Jordan's long hair blew in the direction of the breeze, and Jordan noticed how Peter's smile faded almost suddenly, as if he was lost in thought and then came back into a harsh reality.

"How much further?"

"One more block, _Peter Parker."_ she laughed, the name sounding funny to her.

Peter, though, still did not get it.


	4. The Hard Truth

"Here we go! Seven-Eleven! You're on stop shop for...basically anything." Jordan smiled as she opened the door. Peter, feeling too anxious to show any manners, rushed in without holding the door. Jordan brushed it off and followed as he moved to a comic rack.

"Okay," Peter said. "Which comic is Spider-Man?"

Jordan moved beside him. "There are tons. Marvel Knights, Civil War, Amazing Spider-Man, Spectacular Spider-Man, Ultimate Spider-Man."

Peter's face fell. He sighed. "Well, I better start looking."

Jordan analyzed him as he flipped through various pages. "What are you looking for, exactly?"

"I don't really know." He replied, not taking his eyes from the comics.

"Well, I know about some of this stuff..." Jordan said, picking up an issue. "Marvel Knights and Civil War don't really follow the original storyline at all...Captain America dies in this issue."

"What? He's dead?"

"In this comic, anyway."

"Oh my God...Cap...Oh my--wait...you said something about an original storyline? What do you mean?" Peter said.

"Well, Ultimate Spider-Man is sorta a remake of the old comics that started in 1963ish. And--"

"Look in there!" Peter snapped. Peter grabbed a copy of the same issue as well and started flipping through it. The pages got stuck between his fingers as he frantically searched. Sweat dripped from his brow. Jordan eyed him oddly. "You okay, Peter?"

"What does that comic have in it?"

"Uh...let's see...Spider-Man's swinging, he's stopped in an alleyway...Madam Web pops up and--"

"What? Let me see!" Peter reached for the issue and snatched it from Jordan's hands, staring at the page she had been on. Peter read the words carefully aloud:

"_You're living a lie, Spider-Man. This world is not a safe place."_

"_I know, lady. Have you seen what I do?" _The picture showed Spider-Man tapping his fingers impatiently.

_"Spider-Man, you must realize the extent of what you do. Do you even know?"_

_ "Jeez, lady! You're already giving me a headache. You should come with asprin, you know that?"_

_"__Spider-Man,"_ the cartoon Madam Web breathed. _"What you do changes everything. You must realize how serious this is."_

_"I do! L__isten, Madam Web--I just really don't have time for this."_

_"You're living in your own world, Spider-Man. It's time to enter another reality."_

Peter Parker dropped the comic book and stared into space. He replayed the conversation he had had with Madam Web over in his head. He frowned. _Oh. That Other Reality._

Peter Parker wanted to scream and run out of the store and find Madam Web, but he realized that she had been true to her word, and entered him in another reality. What reality this was, he had no freaking idea. Peter Parker looked at Jordan and stared her in the eye.

"Jordan, I need your help."

"What?"

"You obviously know a lot about my comics. I really need your help--no, listen. I'm not crazy. I'm Peter Parker."

Jordan looked at him and snorted into a laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

But Peter was not laughing. Jordan picked up the comic book lying on the floor and flipped to a page where it pictured Spider-Man without his mask. Jordan looked at the cartoon drawing, then back up at Peter. She did this numerous times before dropping the comic and staggering backwards.

"You really are Peter Parker. Oh my God! How did this happen?"

"I don't know! Jordan, shh! People could hear!"

"What the hell are you doing here? You're fictional!"

Peter grabbed her and lugged her out of the store. He spun her around and said: "Madam Web did this to me, I'm sure of it! She brought me into this other reality that you read about in the comic. What happened in that comic happened to me in real life."

"Okay, so you're...wait a minute...you're Spider-Man. Oh my God, y-you're Spider-Man." Jordan gaped. She stared at him blankly. "You're Spider-Man."

Peter dragged her out into the back parkinglot an pulled down his shirt, showing the costume. She staggered backwards onto the floor. Peter sat down beside her.

"This can't be real." she said.

"Psh. Tell me about it. Look, Jordan--I'm sorry about freaking you out. The only reason I went to your house in the first place was...because...that's my house in my world."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Weird, right?"

There was a long silence between them, as each tried to think of something to do. Jordan turned her head to face him and asked: "Do you think you'll just...poof back into your world?"

"I dunno. But I can't wait around for that to happen. People need me there."

"So...what now?"

He sighed. "I have no idea."

"Well, I won't leave you in this mess. You can stay at my house if you want."

"And tell your parents what?"

"The truth," Jordan sad. "They'll understand. They always do."

He smiled and nodded, stood and then helped her up from the asphalt. "Thanks, Jordan. I mean it."

"Sure. Anything for My Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man."

"Ssh! Not so loud!" He laughed. She flashed him a smile back and went inside the store to purchase the comic book. Peter stood outside and thought. Whatever this was...this was bigger and harder than anything Jordan had in mind. He had been in this business too long to be so naive to think any different. Where would he go? Who would he talk to?

Jordan came out seconds later and handed him the comic. She started walking and whispered: "When we get home you are _so _showing me your powers."

The long walk was filled with in-depth discussions about Peter's life. He told her exactly who the heck this Madam Web lady was. She told him all she knew; about Mary Jane, Uncle Ben, Aunt May, Doc Ock, and asked him to elaborate so she would understand his life more. By the time they had reached her house Peter was telling her all about the various members of the Sinister Six, and how he really, really hated those guys.

_**A/N: I forgot to state this at the beginning: Any names or likelyness in this fanfic is unintentional. Characters are completely fictional.**_


	5. Telling The Parents

Peter felt awkward as he sat on Jordan's bed. The pink walls and strange furniture made his stomach lurch. After all, this was his room...and the unfamiliarity of it all did not make him feel welcomed. "Are you sure this is okay?" he asked.

"Even if its not, where_ else _would you stay?" Jordan smiled. She went and sat beside him. "Look, Peter. As soon as my parents come home we can sort everything out."

"They'll think we're crazy."

"Probably. But once we show them we're telling the truth, then everything will be okay."

Peter growled. It just wasn't that simple, and he knew it. "How should I prove it?"

"Show them what you showed me...can you show me _again?_ Please?"

Peter sighed and gave a slight smile and stood from the bed. With a quick hop he reached the ceiling, and he did not fall down. He hung upside-down and smiled as he saw Jordan's face. "I'm lucky my powers still work in this place." He said.

"Yeah. But you know you can't go swinging around as Spider-Man in the city, right? If people saw that...jeez, I have no idea what they'd do. The government would probably take you underground and question you, make you their little science project."

Peter hopped down from the ceiling. "Yeah. You're right. I just can't imagine a world without superheroes."

"I can't imagine a world_ with _them. All the chaos that goes on? All the danger?"

"We're there to stop the chaos and danger."

"It's the cops job here." she said.

"We have a responsibility there."

Jordan stood up and looked at the comic. "It must be amazing, Peter. All the stuff you do...why do you do it, though? I read all the time about how they think you're doing it all for the glory and fame or whatever. Jameson especially."

Peter sighed. "You get used to it, really. And--"

There was the sound of the front door opening, and of footsteps entering the hall. "My Mom." Jordan said. "That means Dad's due in fifteen minutes."

Peter gulped. This entire situation was nuts, and he knew it. He had been cloned, framed, shot at, beaten, arrested, knocked around by the world's most dangerous megalomaniacs, saved the world a couple times over; and yet, here he felt like he was helpless. He had never felt so lost before. Hopefully Jordan's parents wouldn't freak out and call the police.

Jordan told Peter to wait in her room as she went downstairs to butter her parents up and sort of prepare them. When Jordan's father arrived home Jordan called Peter down. They were sitting in the living room...his living room. Peter took a seat on the couch next to Jordan and faced the two parents. He introduced himself and shook their hands.

"Ma, Dad. Before I tell you this...remember you told me to always be honest with you, no matter what? You are going to think that we are nuts, but you have got to believe me on this, okay?"

Her parents' faces changed and showed their worry.

Jordan took a deep breath. "This is my friend, Peter Parker. He is _the _Peter Parker, actually. From the comic book."

Her parents didn't say a word. They simply stared at the boy that their daughter had dragged into their house. Peter cleared his throat. "Mr. and Mrs. Luck--it's true. I was transported to your world from mine...my comic book. I have the issue upstairs and its the only explanation that makes sense. I'm stuck here, I don't know for how long, but I need to get back. The reason I found Jordan is because this is my house in my world."

Jordan's Mom looked at him. "Are you crazy?"

"Ma, let him prove it!" Jordan said sharply. She turned her head to Peter. "Pete...it's okay. You can trust them. Show them."

Peter stood up and pulled down his shirt, showing his trademark costume underneath. After doing this he sighed and jumped onto the ceiling, just as he had done before. "Ta-da?" he asked.

Jordan's Mom screamed.

He jumped down and landed on the couch next to Jordan again. "Mom...Dad...we need to keep this a secret, or he might never get home."

"Okay...I'll go along with you two. You are Peter Parker. Why are you here?"

"This crazy woman named Madam Web--she tries to help me and open my eyes and teach me lessons. Well, she told me about 'another reality' and, well, here I am. I think she brought me here for one of her whacky reasons."

Jordan's Dad looked at him. "You really are Peter Parker. Oh, God, this isn't right."

"Mom, Dad, we need help getting him home. Please--what do we do?"

Out of breath, her Dad answered: "Get me the comic."

Peter had raced up the stairs and back down again in record time, the comic in his hands. Jordan's parents read through it, nodded and talked, until they finally came to the insane conclusion that they were telling the truth. Jordan's Dad read the small print inside the comic. They sat in silence until finally Jordan's Dad coughed. "We could try and contact Marvel. That seems to be our only option, considering they...you know...own you."

Peter nodded. "Yeah. How do we contact them?"

"Internet?" Jordan asked.

Peter nodded and smiled. "Internet."

"You two get on that. I'll start dinner. Peter, guessing you have no where else to go, you can stay here for as long as you need to. You can sleep in Jared's room."

Peter smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Luck."

"Let's go, Peter. I have a computer in my room." Jordan yanked his arm towards and and pulled him up the stairs. Peter flashed another smile at Mr. and Mrs. Luck before he entered Jordan's room.

"Now what?" He asked.

"Google."

"Google? You think Google will have it?"

Jordan gave him a look. "Are you kidding? Google has everything."

Peter looked at the comic he had taken from downstairs. "Marvel...wow, that's weird. People own me."

Jordan suddenly turned around from the computer. "Aren't you supposed to be funny?"

Peter coughed. "What?"

"In the comics, you're always funny."

"Well, gee, sorry, I must have forgotten any good jokes when I was transported into another world where I'm not supposed to even exist."

Jordan turned back to face the screen. Peter sighed and spread out on the bed, reading the comic over and over. Marvel...where had he heard that before? Captain Marvel, maybe? Peter looked at the comic that literally contained his life. His secret identity, his family, his house, his school...

"I got it! The Marvel website!"

Peter sat up. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She said. "I just need an address..."

Peter jumped up next to her. He pointed at a button. "Go to comics."

Jordan nodded and the page loaded. Peter read the page. _Comics Home, Comics News, Comics On Sale...wait..._"There! Subscriptions. Maybe it'll give us an address."

Peter felt a rush of anxiety through is body, but the page lead them to a dead end. Peter read the entire page, then looked at the links provided. "Go to Customer Service." he instructed. Jordan did so, and the page showed up. She then clicked a box that said 'What Would You Like To Do?' and a dropbox appeared with various links and options.

"Right there! Contact Customer Service!" Peter said. Jordan did so, and scrolled down to the bottom of the page. It provided an address and a phone number. Peter saw this and freaked out. Peter jumped with enthusiasm and Jordan jumped with him, giving him a high-five.

"Dinner!" Jordan's Mom called. Jordan grabbed Peter. "I can't wait to tell Mom and Dad. Oh, this is great!"

Peter nodded, and then he froze. That smell...meatloaf...hrm, he wondered if it was anything like Aunt May's...


	6. Waiting

"This...is really good meatloaf," Peter said, wiping his face with a napkin. "Aunt May makes it every Tuesday. I was on my home for dinner, actually, when Madam Web poofed me here like some bad magic trick."

"I'm glad you like it, Peter. So, what did you two find out online?"

Jordan swallowed. "We found a Marvel address and phone number. It's a start."

"We can call tomorrow, since they're probably closed now."

"Ma! I have school tomorrow."

"A little hookey never hurt anyone." Peter suggested, taking a gulp of soda. He looked at her Mom, who smiled.

"I was thinking the same thing."

Peter smiled back as he sat in what should have been his kitchen. He got a very strange feeling as he shoved down the last of his mashed potatoes. "I can't really thank you enough for helping me. I'm sorry I got you into this. Jordan just seemed like she knew about these comics."

"Don't worry about it, Peter," Jordan said. "I'm glad you told me."

Peter pushed his empty plate forward and thanked them for the meal and helped clean up.

"Jordan, go see if some of Jared's old clothes will fit Peter. I've got the table."

"Sure, Ma. Come on, Peter, this way." Jordan pulled Peter along into an empty room upstairs and down the hall. "This is my older brother's room. He just went to college to NYU. But he's a packrat...he probably still has pants from the eleventh grade...here we go. Try this on."

Peter took the shirt off that he was wearing, exposing his costume. Jordan just stared at it in awe, until he pulled the football jersey over his head that smelled like it hadn't been washed in years. It was a little loose, but it fit just fine. "Try these on too." She said, giving him a pile.

"They need to be long sleeve," Peter said. "My costume."

"Oh! Right, right." Jordan rummaged through and gave him a nice little stack. She motioned at Peter's chest. "Could I see you in your costume?"

"What?"

"I've never seen Spider-Man up close before. Not the real one, anyway."

Peter smiled. "Pull down the blinds on the windows."

Jordan did so, and turned around to see Spider-Man, mask and all, standing in the middle of the room. She fell back with a huge grin across her face. "Oh my God. Y-you're really Spider-Man."

"Ssh! Don't tell anybody."

"You look way cooler than the movie poster."

"They make posters?"

Jordan smiled. "Okay, Wall-Crawler. This is going to be your room. Sorry it smells like B.O. and Doritos."

Peter laughed and pulled his mask off. He threw his jeans back on and the long-sleeve shirt that read 'I Do All My Own Stunts'.

"We'll call Marvel tomorrow. I'm gonna go get ready for bed."

"Thanks, Jordan. For everything."

Peter was left alone in the room, and he instantly dove to the XBOX 360. "What games do you have, dude...?" Peter said aloud as he looked through them. He picked up a case and flipped it over. _Spider-Man 3_. Peter dropped it and started to laugh. After a half hour Jordan came in to check on him, and found him staring at a graphic of himself climbing a wall.

"This isn't me! And they got the spider-sense all wrong!"

"This is based on the movie, Peter. They made one based on your comic, but it's for Playstation 2."

"Do you have it?"

"Well, yeah. Let me set it up."

Peter was shocked to find that the Peter Parker in the videogame looked exactly like him. His voice was similar as well._ The Ultimate Spider-Man _video game seemed all too real for Peter. "This crap really happened to me!" Peter said. "They made a video game out of my life! Venom...M.J...Jeez."

_"That's something you don't see everyday. _Almost _everyday, but not_ every_day." _The video game Spider-Man said through the TV speakers. Peter fell back. "I said that once! They stole my jokes!"

"Hey, your butt doesn't look as big in the game." Jordan pointed out. Peter threw a pillow at her and they started laughing.

"Time for bed, Jordan!" they heard her Dad yell. Jordan got up, wished Peter goodnight, and left him to his video game. Which he played until two-thirty A.M.


	7. The Call

Peter Parker woke up abruptly. He looked around the room awoke in, and found that it did not belong to him. Then he saw the games on the floor, and he remembered the past events that had occupied his life. He tucked the sheets in and finished making the bed, then went downstairs to the smell of pancakes. Peter had tried on numerous occasions to cook pancakes for Aunt May. Each time resulted in a possibility of a house fire.

"Morning, Peter!" Jordan said, and she motioned for him to sit beside her. A plate of pancakes awaited him as he sat down.

"Okay, so I think we should call an hour after they open. That way anyone who came late to work would be there."

"Right. So, exactly, how are we going to explain this?"

"I don't know. I'll need to speak with someone who is in charge of your comic." Jordan responded, taking a sip of orange juice.

"I'd like to speak with them." Peter said.

Jordan nodded. "Of course."

Peter smiled weakly. Jordan seemed perfectly fine with the whole situation. These people were going to think that they were nuts! It needed to be handled delicately, and Peter knew that more than Jordan would ever understand. This was not cool. This was not a game. This was seriously bizarre and scary.

Peter cleared his throat as he dialed the number. After two rings a woman picked up. Peter could tell by her voice that she was a smoker.

"Marvel company, Lisa speaking."

"Hi, Lisa. Uh, my name is Peter. I was wondering if I could speak with someone in charge of the _Ultimate Spider-Man _comic book series. It's really important."

"Is it about a subscription, an error, a--"

Peter broke in: "No, neither, I just really need to speak with someone."

There was the infamous holding music, which was worse than anything Peter had ever heard in an elevator. He mouthed: "I'm on hold" when Jordan inquired about the silence.

"Hello, John speaking."

"Hiya, uh, recently you published an issue of the _Ultimate Spider-Man _comic with Madam Web and Spider-Man, right? And Madam Web was, uh, planning to send him to another reality. Where exactly would that be?"

"You'll have to wait till the next issue to--"

"No, I mean, uh--I can't wait. When will Spider-Man be back to his world?"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but--"

"Okay, listen. My name is Peter Parker. I am_ the_ Peter Parker. Yes it's crazy and yes it's hard to believe, but Madam Web's other reality that she planned to send me to is this world--your world, where I don't even really exist. I need to speak with whoever is the head honcho, whoever did this to me."

"Sir, I'm sorry, but did you just say that you're Peter Parker?"

Peter gave a deep sigh. "Yes. And I need your help."

"Sir, I highly suggest that you stop making prank phone calls."

"What? No! No, please just wait a second!" Peter begged.

"Peter Parker is a fictional character, sir."

"Tell me about it. Look, I--Hello? Hello? Damn! They hung up!" Peter said, slamming the phone into the receiver.

Jordan cocked her head. "Now what?"

Peter pulled his Spider-Man mask from his back pocket. "Now we go to Marvel. Let's go back online and get that address." He followed Jordan upstairs and back to the computer.

"Peter...you're not really gonna swing there, are you?"

"Oh, you bet I am! Wanna come along for the ride?"

Jordan's face lit up like never before. "Really? Wow! Would I ever!"

"I gotta keep to the shadows, though. We'll go later--what time do they close?"

Jordan scrolled with her mouse on the computer. "Right here it says 'Monday through Friday, 8:30 am to 11:00 pm'. What time do you wanna go?"

Peter slid his mask back into his pocket. "Let's head out around eight-thirty. It'll be dark by then."

"What do you want to do while we wait?"

Peter pondered. "I really would like to play that XBOX again..."

**_A/N: Okay, so here is where I'll say that I have no idea how to contact Marvel or who works there. All the names and such are fictional. I did, however, go on the Marvel website to get the contact information. But everything else is made up--I would have no idea how to contact anyone that holds a high position in the Marvel universe. _**


	8. EightThirty

Peter Parker hated waiting. So when he was forced to wait for eight-thirty to show up on the clock, he was very irritable. Jordan stayed clear of him and his XBOX 360 controller, as she fantasized about her future ride from Spider-Man. But Peter was not so light hearted. He was nervous, scared even. He knew that Jordan could sense his mood, and that she probably wanted to help, but Peter didn't care. He had really started to miss his own world, where he was...oh, I don't know...real?

Jordan had been on her computer, researching comics and reading them digitally on the Marvel website. Peter still hadn't moved from in front of the television screen.

Jordan's mother arrived home, running upstairs right away to see if Peter had gotten home. Jordan explained everything to her mother, and later her father, who had done the same thing.

"We're leaving around eight-thirty. They close at eleven." Jordan told them.

"I'll start dinner. What would you like, Peter?" She said loudly to Peter in the far room.

"Whatever is easiest, Mrs. Luck." He said, and then the Spider-Man from the game could be heard screaming "Ow! Pain! Pain Is Bad!" from the television.

Peter was unusually quiet that night at dinner. It did not go unnoticed, though its origin was from nerves. Peter knew that it would be hard to convince these people at Marvel that he was telling the truth, and even harder to get them to help. He knew that he may never return home, but if he didn't try then he would never know.

But eight o'clock Peter had had it. He came down the stairs in his costume, which really startled Jordan's parents. A dish fell to the floor and her Mom gasped. "God, Peter! I nearly forgot you were Spider-Man!"

"I just wanted to thank you for everything, Mr. and Mrs. Luck, in case...y'know...I don't see you again."

That fact had not been so sudden to Mr. and Mrs. Luck. "That's right. Oh, Peter! I hope you get home safely."

"Peter, it was a pleasure having you."

Spider-Man hugged each one of her parents, then ran upstairs to Jordan. She was still on her computer when he knocked on her door. "You ready?"

"We still have twenty-five minutes!"

"I don't wanna wait. Let's go."

Spider-Man escorted her to the attic and opened up the small window which he used to sneak back inside the house numerous times back in his world. As they stood on a rooftop Spider-Man told Jordan exactly how to hold onto him--with her standing behind him and her hands wrapped around his neck--and he took off. He swung low, as to remain undetected. Jordan contained herself and did not scream, though her mouth was wide open.

Within minutes New York City was in view. His speed was amazing, his agility nothing like Jordan had ever seen.

"You remember that address?"

"Y-yeah." Jordan said.

"Right. Hold on!"

And Spider-Man leaped into the concrete canyons of New York City.


	9. Phase One

Spider-Man is a fictional character, created by two geniuses who work for Marvel. This being said, if any citizens of New York City saw this Spider-Man swinging through the streets, they would have either been crazy or gone crazy.

But Spider-Man was good at being hidden, and staying from view. So when the Jordan told him the address, Spider-Man did not travel the fastest route, but the darkest, loneliest route that even the rats seemed to be absent from. And for the first time, he felt like he was back home--swinging through the city, doing what he did best.

Spider-Man landed on a rooftop directly across from their destination at the Marvel building. It was so tall, its windows shining and its front door ready for phase one. He put Jordan down and told her the plan.

"Right. So, here's the drill. You're going to go in...yes,_ you!_ You'll go in and talk with the receptionist. Get her to call some head guy who works with my comic. I'll sneak in and stick to the ceiling above the reception desk and watch which buttons she presses. I'll find out which floor and what room the guy's on. You can do it." He said, looking at Jordan's face. She was clearly nervous, as she knew this could be Peter's only chance. So, she climbed down an emergency escape ladder and prepared herself.

Jordan walked across the street moments later, and Spider-Man made his way around and found an open window. He watched Jordan approach the desk. When his spider-sense gave the all-clear he leaped inside and hid behind a lounge chair. He jumped onto the ceiling and approached the desk.

"Hi...uh, I'm here to speak with...uh...John...oh, shoot! I forgot his last name...he works, uh, for _Ultimate Spider-Man._ The comic book. Yeah." her voice quivered.

"Does he know you're here, sweetie?" The lady at the desk said. It was that Lisa woman he'd spoken with on the phone--Spider-Man could tell by her harsh voice.

"Let me see if he's available for you..." And Spider-Man watched as she worked with her buttons. Fifth floor. Room 557. Perfect. Spider-Man gave her a thumbs up, which appeared to her as a thumbs down but she understood the gesture, and he crawled from sight once again, faster than Jordan had ever seen anything move.

"He's not seeing anyone at the moment, I'm sorry. He said he got some strange phone call that just set him over the edge."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Jordan said, and she calmly backed away and went outside, trying to act as normal as possible. She walked outside and heard as _pst! _sound.She turned a corner and saw Spider-Man peeking from behind a dumpster.

"Great job, Jordan! He's in room 557."

Jordan knelt down beside him. "Okay, so...how are we gonna get in?"

Spider-Man laughed. "They don't call me the wall-crawler for nothing."

_**A/N: I just want to take the time to thank everyone who has reviewed and is keeping up with this story. It started out as a short, and then--thanks to all your lovely reviews--I tired to make it into something better. I really can't tell you how much your reviews mean--especially with this story, since I didn't expect it to go far. And I am really trying to make it as error-free as possible, but I'm not using any sort of spell check and whatnot. I actually type all my fanfics on the site, so errors are something that always seem to happen.**_

_**But thanks so much for supporting the story! You guys rock! **_


	10. Once Inside

Jordan did not care about being quite this time. She screamed louder than she ever did before. Okay, so she knew Spider-Man could stick to walls, and that climbing them was old news to him. But as she looked down, which she had been told _not_ to do, she couldn't help it. How high uo where they? Fifty feet? One Hundred? She felt dizzy, and Spider-Man could feel her fast heartbeat.

"I need an open window! Darn it!" Spider-Man said, feeling around the windows of the fifth floor. After pushing on several different ones, He found his hand rush forward as he found one that was unlocked. He climbed inside, Jordan still on his back. They stood up and looked around. It was an office, decorated with Fantastic Four and Captain America posters. Spider-Man looked at them.

"What? No posters for me?"

Jordan laughed and checked some papers on a desk. "This guy works for your comic, all right. I think he does storyboard."

Spider-Man turned to her. "What room are we in?"

Jordan peeked at the front door. "550."

"Okay. We need a few more to go. Come on."

He opened the office door and headed into the hall, Jordan following him. It was filled with posters and cardboard cutouts and things dangling from the ceiling. He passed an oversized statue of Jonny Storm, flamed on as the Human Torch.

"Oh great. That's all he needs. I can't tell him about that. He's got a big enough head as it is."

Suddenly voices echoed from the stairwell, causing Spider-Man and Jordan to stop in their tracks. Panic rushed over them--they couldn't be caught! Not yet!

"Jordan! Hide under that desk!" Spider-Man said, pointing. Running out of time to hide himself, he simply posed beside the statue of Johnny Storm and remained as still as he could possibly be. He took one last deep breath before the men came.

The three guys walked past, one of them stopping. "Hey, John, when did we get this thing?" He pointed at Spider-Man.

"I dunno. Looks life-like, though." Said the man. He seemed to be in this forties, his hair starting to gray. The other man simply told his coworkers that he'd see them later, and entered the office from which Spider-Man and Jordan had come from.

When the two men passed the one referred to as John went into his office--557. Spider-Man tugged Jordan from under the table and headed down the hallway, ducking low. They stood in front of the door that lead to office 557.

"You ready?" Jordan asked.

Spider-Man did not reply. He simply knocked.

The door swung open. _That must be John._

John stared at Spider-Man, looking at him from head to toe.

"It's a good thing I make prank phone calls, eh, Johnny?" Spider-Man said.

Jordan smiled when John looked at her. He laughed: "Are you two kidding me?"

"If we were, this would be one sad joke. No, April Fool's did not come early. No, you are not being Punk'd. I am Spider-Man, and this is my friend Jordan, who I met here. She's been trying to help me get back to my world, which Madam Web zapped me from."

John still did not move or speak. Spider-Man thought he was going to pass out. But he brought them inside and slammed the door shut, hoping no one else had seen.

"Okay, okay...John, you are not crazy, you are _not_ crazy..."

"If anyone's going nuts, it's me. I've been told that I don't even _exist."_ Spider-Man said, crouching on a wall. Jordan stood next to him, finally saying: "We don't know how to get him back. We need your help."

"Oh, you two need help, all right." he said.

"Was that a joke? Are you my writer?" Spider-Man asked.

John turned to face them. "No, listen to me! This is not real_--this can't be!_ It's _crazy!"_

"So we've been told. Listen, mister--I've been here for days. I've read the comic--cool art, by the way--and it's the only explanation. Madam Web wanted me to find my way in another reality. Well, guess which reality she picked, Johnny Boy." Spider-Man then saw his face. It was not accepting at all. "Okay. Okay, let's just...calm down for a second, huh? Do you wanna poke me? I'm as real as ever. I'm not a dream. I'm here. Look--" Spider-Man pulled off his mask, and John nearly fell. It was him! From their comic! John stuttered, "Peter...Parker..."

He put the mask back on. "Yeah. It's me, all right. Please, I'm practically begging here--is there any way to get me back home?"

"I--I just overlook...I..._wow_...uh..."

Spider-Man sighed. "Who can I speak with? Who would even _know _what to do?"

John picked up a phone and pressed a speed dial number. He waited for some time for the person on the other end to answer.

"Yeah, hey, it's John...room 557. You better get in here...now...you won't believe me if I tell you. Just.._.hurry. Yep. As fast as you can.."_ He hung up the phone. "He's one of the writers. He'll...jeez, I don't even know what anyone is gonna do...what anyone_ can _do..."

Spider-Man stood. "Thank you for your help. So, this Bill guy...does he write my jokes? Because I have a serious complaint! I called someone a "bunkie" a few weeks ago...and that's just not funny..."


	11. Questions

They were not alone with John for a long time--probably because John had stressed the please hurry part. But Spider-Man enjoyed the room and waited patiently for this Bill guy to come.

"See? Everything's gonna be fine." Spider-Man told Jordan, who leaned against a wall.

A few moments later, three men busted open the office door and frantically searched it. They did not have to look long--the guy in the bright spandex wasn't hard to miss. Each one of them wore the uniform of a security guard. Two even had their weapons drawn.

"All right! Hands up, now!"

"Oh, thank God!" John said. "I thought you'd never get here!"

"John? You called security? But...I thought what we had was _special!" _Spider-Man said dramatically. He backed away next to Jordan. By her expression, she had not been expecting something like this to happen.

"Didn't your spider-sense warn you about this?"

"No...I...no, it didn't. They won't hurt us, that's why."

"So, the reasoning behind the guns would be...?" Jordan asked.

The security guards looked as puzzled as ever. "Okay, you two--uh...just...erm...come with us...and..."

She shook her head, not paying attention to them. "Don't you have superpowers?""

"I can't use them on security guards! Are you nuts?"

"Just asking..."

Spider-Man focused back on the three security guards. "Uh, is there a problem, officer?"

"You'll need to come with us, you two, down into the holding room." the one without the gun said. In his hand he twirled two pairs of handcuffs with their names on them.

"You guys have holding room here? Are you serious?" Spider-Man said.

Jordan was not so easy-going about the situation. "Are _you_ serious? Let's get the heck outta here!"

"Though it seems...uh...pathetic, but they're my best shot of getting home. Let's just...do what they say until they believe us."

John laughed. "Believe what? That you're Spider-Man."

"That's the plan." he replied.

The one officer to his cue and placed Jordan's hands behind her back, slapping a pair of cuffs on, and securing them tightly.

"Hey, hey! Easy with her!" Spider-Man warned. The guard then did the same to him, though he was a little rougher with Spider-Man. He didn't care--he could snap those things off in a heartbeat. But it would be bad to do that right now...he needed to get them on his side to help return him home.

"Okay. Now that we're handcuffed...where to?"

The two remaining officers stashed their weapons and grabbed them by the arm. They marched them down the hall and into the elevator, which headed for lower-than-ground floor. Spider-Man enjoyed the elevator music. "So...what's your name?"

No one replied.

"Well...there's one failed attempt for civil conversation..."

"Spidey, just shut it. Once we're in the holding room they'll listen." Jordan said.

"I hope, or I'll be stuck here for a while."

"Yeah..." her voice trailed off and she instead watched the number of the descending floors. Three...two...one...lower than one...

The doors opened and they were pushed inside. They saw a security desk with a wide-eyed officer, a few others talking in small groups, and then, of course, the holding room. Spider-Man and Jordan each took a seat on the metal chairs and were left alone for a very long time. Jordan seemed worried, even though Spider-Man kept insisting that he'd sweet-talk them out of this mess.

When the door opened the weaponless guard from before and one other short, portly man entered with stern eyes. Each seemed balder and fatter than the other--Spider-Man assumed it was the donuts. They eyed them suspiciously, talked quietly amongst themselves, and then went back to eyeing them. Spider-Man had thought of a wisecrack, but let it pass unsaid as it would most likely not start off the conversation well.

"So...Spider-Man, huh?" the guard from before asked.

"Yep. The one and only."

"How'd you get in this building?"

"The truth? I climbed through the window." Spider-Man stated plainly.

The fat police officer raised his brow. "It was on the _fifth _floor."

"Yep."

"Right. Well. Mind answering some questions for us?" the short man asked.

He nodded, "Sure."

"Name?"

"Peter Benjamin Parker, slash, Spider-Man."

"Date of birth?" he asked.

"May 1st, 1991 in Forrest Hills, Queens. Parents: Richard and Mary Parker, both deceased. Known relatives: Uncle Ben Parker, deceased, and Aunt May Parker--alive and kicking. Want more? Okay then! Occupation: high school student, freelance photographer, part time hero. Weight: 165--though its mostly my butt. Height: about 5 foot 10. Hair: brown. Eyes: Hazel. A beautiful color, if I do say so myself--"

"What are you trying to do, kid?" the one officer asked.

"Me? Just trying to show you that I'm telling the truth."

"Oh yeah, wise guy?"

_"Wise guy.._.ha...no one's_ ever_ called me _that _before. That really stings..." he replied sarcastically.

"Enough of this!" Jordan shouted. "Look--we are telling the truth. We wouldn't waste your time--our time! Why would we make this up? It happened, it's real, and it's about time that someone believed us!"

"What you want us to believe is crazy, miss..."

"You don't think we know that?" Spider-Man asked. "Madam Web is the _definition_ of crazy."

"Please, officers. We came all this way, did all this research. Just give him a chance! He needs to go home." Jordan told them. "He just needs someone to believe him. Like me."

"I don't know. This entire thing is some sort of plot--"

"Plot? Plot to do what? Steal all of Marvels pretty little comics? Dude, I seriously can't believe this! Are people always like this?"

Jordan gave a sad nod.

He threw his head back and broke the handcuffs unintentionally. He brought his arms back around to the front and displayed his broken hand restraints. "Oops. Sorry--I stretched too far. Wanna slap another pair on me, buddy?"

Their faces were in shock. "You--you snapped it?--in half?"

"I _told _you," he said. "I'm Spider-Man."

**_A/N: Here I would like to state that I don't know how security in the real Marvel building works--and it's just a reminder that all characters are fictional. Also, I do not know the date of Peter Parker's birthday. I think I remember reading May 1st, so I put that down. If anyone does know it, slap it in alongside one of your lovely reviews._**


	12. Half Right

When security had called John again, who Spider-Man and Jordan had requested to see, he was not pleased.

"Sir, he _broke_ the handcuffs--who else could do that?" the security guard said into the phone. "Yes, sir--believe me, I plan to speak with a shrink right after--he said he wanted to see you and that Bill guy you'd been planning to call before you stabbed them in the back. Sorry--sir, I insist that you just speak with him. Just speak with him. Why? He _broke_ the handcuffs! They're hard metal or...whatever."

After trying to hear bits and pieces of phone conversation, the first guard came over to him and cleared his throat. "Well, Mister Spider-Man, John agreed to bring Bill down here. Bill works for the writing staff."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. So...can you uncuff my friend? Or I'll do it." he warned. As the guard finally found the right key after a series of tries and ripped off Joran's cuffs, the door opened.

Spider-Man specialized in startling those who did not startle easy. So when a tall, serious-faced man walked in the room along side the graying John and jumped at the sight of the comic book character standing right before his eyes, Spider-Man simplyy nodded. Just another man who just couldn't believe he was really there.

"Do you wanna poke me, too? I'm real. But I mean...just in case." Spider-Man offered with a serious tone.

"You're kiding me...right?" Bill asked his coworker. He passed the two security guards which blocked the door.

"Bill...sit down." John said. Bill's face dropped. He looked at the girl who Spider-Man must have tagged along with. He looked at her with a face desperate for answers, but she looked away. She didn't want to make eye contact with these two, and she didn't plan on it until they were assured help.

"Yeah, Billy. Johnny here's about to tell you that I am_ the_ Spider-Man, from your funny, little over-priced comic book, and that I was transported here by Madam Web. You're 'other reality' scheme you planned for me really backfired, huh?" Spider-Man said.

"Madam Web brought you here? Are you kidding? How can you say you're Spider-Man with a straight face?" Bill asked.

Spider-Man moaned. "I'd take off my mask, but I really don't feel that comfortable doing that. I don't just parade my face around for the world to see. Johnny already saw it, that's enough. Plus I can make faces at you with my mask on and you don't know about it."

Bill's face was in shock.What a surprise.

"So, Billy, you're my writer, huh? What the heck is a 'bunkie'?"

Bill laughed nervously, then looked at John. "The kid's funny enough to be Spider-Man. But I still don't believe it. It's illogical...it's crazy...it's--"

_"Psh_. Welcome to my world." Spider-Man said.

"Bill, I know it's insane. But these security guards here say that he broke his pair of handcuffs. Normal people just don't do that. He also said that he scaled the building to get inside my office. Bill, you're one of the writers who was involved in the plot. Where were you_ planning_ to send him?"

"To an alternate dimension where super heroes are really the bad guys, and a vice versa type of thing."

"Been there, done that." Spider-Man commented.

"Well, he's been brought here instead. Madam Web was one step ahead of you. Question is--how do we get him back, and what could be the consequences of him being here? It's not one of those end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it type of thing, is it?"

"I dunno. I have no idea 'bout this stuff. I could show him to the writing team...see what they think."

John nodded in agreement. "Spider-Man, I am going to ask you and Ms. Luck to go with Bill to meet with the writers. Their brains will have a better idea of this whole mess."

"So...does this mean that you believe us?" Jordan asked coldly.

"No. We don't. But we're giving you a chance to prove it to us."

"Oh, taking my mask off for you wasn't enough, eh, Johnny Boy? Than, screw it, how's this?" Spider-Man leaped into the air, stuck to the ceiling, then skitted down towards the wall and hung upside-down from his web like a yo-yo.

The reaction in the room was priceless. One of the security guards passed out. The other ran out of the room. John fell back in his chair. Bill just gaped and gasped.

"Still don't believe me?" he asked as he flipped onto the ground again.

"Holy...shit...!" Bill shouted.

"You...thats...wow...right...uh...Bill?...let's...go..." John stumbled.

"Thanks, John, Billster. I appreciate what you're doing for me." Spider-Man said. He grabbed Jordan by the hand, who was too scared to really say anything, and followed Bill and John out the door and into the elevator down the hall.

"This is nuts." Bill said as he looked up at the elevator ceiling.

"You think _this_ is nuts? Try fighting a giant octopus man, a human power battery, a guy with a goldfish bowl helmet, an alien suit that's obsessed with spleens and a giant green bird, and _then_ talk to me about nuts."

Bill laughed. "My writing team did well."

"Except for the 'bunkie' part."

He turned his head. "You don't like 'bunkie'?"

"I bet the people that are _called _'bunkies' don't like the term 'bunkie'." Spider-Man said.

"Okay. No more 'bunkie'."

"Good."

"Glad that's settled."

"Yeah."

"Uh, guys? This is our floor." Jordan said from behind. Her voice seemed a little rash from not speaking for so long. Bill stepped out and accompanied Spider-Man and Jordan down the hall. Many onlookers gaped and smiled, thinking it was some guy in a costume, like the ones at birthday parties.

Well, he _was _in a costume. They were half right.


	13. Never Better

"Writers!" Bill announced, clapping his hands. "Conference Room, let's go! Move it, people, move it!"

A bunch of people shifted from their desks and tables and headed in the same direction. After a minute or two, to ensure that everyone was inside, Bill went in to explain and told Spider-Man and Jordan to wait outside. He explained that if the two of them just strolled in then the writers may be too shocked to pick up a pencil. John entered, too, quiet and careful to make no eye contact.

"Hey Jordan?" Spider-Man said as soon as they were alone.

"Yeah?" she answered, leaning against the same wall as him outside the room.

"Are you okay? You've been awfully quiet."

"Well...yeah. I mean, I don't really know what to say, anyway."

Spider-Man held her hand. "Thanks for helping me. I mean--none of this would have happened if you didn't trust me."

"Of course I trust you, Peter. It's just...weird. I mean...when you leave, everything will be so...normal again."

Spider-Man gulped. He knew this would happen. It's not that he didn't feel sad about leaving her--she had turned out to be a great friend who just really seemed to care. But he had his life, his friends...but he wouldn't forget her and everything she did.

"I'll read your comic." Jordan said from nowhere.

Spider-Man laughed. "Yeah. I'll remember that you're reading my comic."

Bill opened the door after some time, and told them to come in. Spider-Man went in first, and he saw the expressions of about half a dozen people--pure shock. They were sitting at a big, long wooden conference table. Bill stood at the front, alongside John.

"Okay. _Anyone_ wanna poke me? I'm real." Spider-Man offered.

"I told them everything, Spider-Man. Now we just need a way to get you back to your...'world'..." Bill started.

"And they believe me?"

"Well, we don't have much of a choice. They've been debating whether, if we refused, you'd spin them all in a web or start beating the tar out of them." Bill said, half laughing.

"Good call. I haven't beaten the tar out of anyone in a few days. Sounds tempting."

"What have you talked about so far?" Jordan interjected, sure to stand beside Spider-Man.

"We don't think anything will happen to us here, in our world. I mean...unless you go swinging around town and drive people crazy. But your world may have a higher crime rate, now that you're here." A tall, pale man said.

"Oh. Yippie."

Bill said: "As to get you back...well, there are a lot of options. We could publish a comic book early, see what happens. We could just wait and see if Madam Web does anything without us writing it...or...well, we don't really know."

"Oh, what, first time this happened?" He asked sarcastically. Spider-Man stood to face the large table full of people now. "Okay. Which one of you is _mainly_ my writer?"

A few people raised their hands. Spider-Man eyed them. "No more 'bunkie', _got that?"_

"Yes, Mr. Spider-Man." one bald man replied.

"Okay. Now, since I don't have the time to wait around for the crazy lady--Madam Web--to poof me back into some other world, I suggest you publish another, short comic. Now."

"But it would screw up everything...I don't even know--"

Spider-Man fumed under his mask. "I am tired of hearing that you don't know. I don't expect you to know! I just wanna go home! And you 'Marvel' people better do whatever the hell you can to get me there, you got that? I didn't go through all the trouble of coming here to get nowhere."

Jordan cleared her throat to break the intense silence. "Maybe you don't have to make millions of copies. Just make one."

"One?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Maybe all that needs to happen is just make it and publish it. Who says there has to be millions of copies of it out? One would be just the same."

Many people considered this, and several faint murmurs of agreement followed shortly after with nods.

"Okay. Let's try it. Remember, people--it's still the same as always. Now inform everyone else on the floor. Make that comic!"

_"Psh. Yeah_, it's _totally _the same." Spider-Man commented.

"You two can stay here, we have a vending machine down the hall."

"Thanks, Billster."

"And, Spider-Man, I do apologize for the trouble we've all given you. I hope you'll forgive us."

Spider-Man, though still a tad bit resentful towards all these Marvel people who apparently owned him, nearly shifted his head. "If I want to get back, I don't have much of a choice, now do I?"

And they were left alone in the meeting room. Spider-Man fooled around in a big swivel chair for a while until he noticed Jordan's discomfort. "Jordan? You okay?"

She forced a fake smile. "Never better."


	14. Published

The waiting was the hardest part.

Spider-Man had enjoyed over a dozen cups of coffee like the caffeine fiend that he was, and spent most of Bill's singles in the vending machine. Jordan had only had a small bite, then reduced herself to looking out of the window. Spider-Man knew how she was feeling, and he was scared, too. And he knew that Jordan did not consider him any more than a friend, which would make this parting a hell of a lot easier. Through his trouble they had created a unique bond, and Spider-Man had felt it too. But he couldn't allow this silence any longer.

"Jordan...come on, let's talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," She said, turning around. "You're going to go home. And that's great. I'm happy that we made it."

"But..."

"But," she continued, "it was nice having you here, having something new."

"Jordan, this is just like one of those corny movies where you want to come back to my world with me, and I--the brave hero--tells you that its too dangerous, and that I will never forget you. Then I leave, you stay, and we both remember each other for the rest of our lives. I know that may not sound too great, because I left out the part that if _someone,_ I don't know _who _it could be, decided to make a sequel, then we'll see each other again."

Jordan smiled and laughed. Spider-Man put down his cup of coffee and gave her a hug, which she really appreciated. She was about to speak when someone opened the door.

"Uh, Mr. Spider-Man? We're, uh, we're almost ready.They want you there so you can...uh, look it over."

Spider-Man and Jordan looked at each other as they parted from their embrace. "You ready?" he asked her.

She nodded and smiled. "Are you?"

He nodded she silently walked with him, where a storyboard was up on a wall and the tons of people who worked on it sat before it. Spider-Man liked the pictures--his butt didn't look fat.

"We created a mini-comic, Spider-Man. One that sent you back to your world. It's only, like, three pages." a young red-headed woman volunteered. Spider-Man looked at her and cocked his head. She reminded him of an older Mary Jane.

"I hope it works." he said. "So what do you need now?"

"We just would like you to go over the storyline, make sure you're happy with it."

Spider-Man nodded. "Right. So...you'll publish it and...then what?"

"We honestly have no idea. You could go, you could not go. But it's a shot." John said, who was sitting in the front row.

Spider-Man gulped. "Give her the comic when you're done. I want Jordan to have it."

"I--uh--well--I--er--okay." Bill said, emerging from the back. He looked nervous, too--though he hardly had anything to worry about.

"Thank you." he said to Bill, shaking his hand. He then turned to Jordan. "I'm ready."

Spider-Man faced the storyboard. He looked at drawings of him waking up, heading home, eating meatloaf, and everything was honkey-dorey. He couldn't really pay attention to the detail--his head was spinning to much. He just settled. He didn't care. He was ready to go home.

"Okay. Looks fine." he said rather quickly.

"Right then. We are ready to publish." Bill said.

Spider-Man gulped. "Do you're thing."

"Bye, Peter." Jordan said, facing him. She squeezed his hand.

"Bye."

And as they faced each other, the comic book was created. In an instant Spider-Man fell to the ground. People screamed and rushed to him, Jordan the one person he could see clearly. And the darkness at the corners of his vision closed in, and the world became black.

**_A/N: I have no idea how they make comics nowadays. Hope I didn't totally mess that part up._**


	15. Coming Home Again

Spider-Man's eyes shot open, and he jumped up instantly. He was still in his costume, and he was in some sort of backalley. He looked around for some sort of clue...but found nothing. Where was he? Was he home? Was he in some other crazy world he didn't know about?

Spider-Man jumped on top of a roof and analyzed the streets. That's when he saw Iron Man fly past, giving Spider-Man a wave. As Spider-Man climbed higher, he saw the Fantastic Four flying in their hovercar. Spider-Man smiled. He was home.

Would he tell them of this entire new world? No, he decided. It could compromise everything, wreck havoc and cause panic. It was just a nice little reminder that maybe destiny didn't have anything to do with life at all, and that there was always someone watching.

"Have a nice trip, Spider-Man?" said that oh-so-familiar voice. Spider-Man turned around. Madam Web.

Her chair had appeared ontop of the roof where he stood. Spider-Man did looked at her. Was this Marvel's Madam Web, or Madam Web without a writing team. He didn't know, and he had no idea of finding out.

"How was that reality for you?"

"Interesting." he replied.

"I trust you will remember that Luck girl, won't you? Jordan Luck, the one that got you home."

"You knew about that other world, outside the comic book?"

_"My dear boy, when will you learn?"_ she laughed. Her laugh echoed in his home of New York City, and she vanished in a whirlwind of smoke. Spider-Man who never cared for Madam Web or her crazy schemes, merely swung off. He wanted his Aunt May's meatloaf...even if he was a couple of days late.

Spider-Man looked around, saw the faces of the people from his world, and smiled. The city hadn't fallen apart. Everything was okay.

Forrest Hills, Queens was a nice neighborhood, and Peter Parker had hardly every enjoyed walking its streets. But before he went home to Aunt May he decided to stop into a shop that had peaked his interest.

Starbucks. Hey, it was in the same location here, too. Why hadn't he come here before? He was a caffeine fiend extraordinaire. Peter Parker pushed the door open, hearing the little bell ring which told everyone someone had just entered, and stuck one hand in his pocket. No money. Go figure.

But the real reason that Peter had come was to see how closely related the two worlds really were.

"Uh, hi? Miss? Does a Jordan Luck work here?" Peter asked an older woman standing at the register. She wiped her hands on her green apron. "We have a Jordan, but not Luck. Her last name is Clover. She's over there, cleaning that table."

Peter turned around to where the woman hand pointed, and he saw a young girl, a year or two older than him, wiping down one of the round tables with a cloth. Peter smiled, but heaved a disappointed sigh. Nope, not her. He cleared his throat and started to walk out the door, heading for home.

Aunt May was sitting at the kitchen table when he entered the door. Her face was grave, her hair a complete mess, and her eyes bloodshot, underlined with dark bags.

_"PETER!"_ She screamed, running over to him. She nearly knocked him down with the powerful, long hug she greeted him with. "Where have you been, you worried me half to deaf! Oh, God! Never do that again! Never! You were gone for days, the police are looking for you, Mary Jane--"

"Aunt May, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you--I'm sorry."

"Where have you been? You tell me right now!"

Peter had started to sweat with the pressure. "I knew you wouldn't approve, Aunt May. I was...uh...I was involved in a...library...manhunt game...?"

"What?" she said, finally freeing him of her arms.

"Yeah. Uh, it was like a big quest. A scavenger hunt. It took days to find all the books--you know how big it is. I thought I left a note..." he lied. Oh, he had become good at lying. He had to, with all the places he had to go in such a hurry.

"Oh, Peter! I don't even care right now! Just, oh God, you're safe."

"Uh...Aunt May?"

"Yes, Peter?" she said, her voice near tears.

"Do you still have that meatloaf?"

She laughed and ran to the refrigerator. "You better call Mary Jane, Peter!" she said. "Invite her over. We have a lot of meatloaf left over."

And later they all sat around the dinner table one the panicked Mary Jane rushed over. She asked him where he was, what had happened, and he told her his excuse. But he told her in their secret manner, as the underlying I-Was-Busying-Being-Spider-Man message was understood, and that he would tell her later. He would tell Mary Jane, of course. How could he not?

And, as it turned out, the meatloaf _was _better than the one Jordan's mom had made. But only by a little bit...

**_A/N: Sorry for the short ending and for most of the short chapters. But like I said--this started out as a boredom write and it ended up being really short. But thanks to everyone who kept up with the story! Your reviews pushed it on, and I can't thank you guys enough.  
_**


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